Making the Grade

Below is the sad, sad tale of how a HausFrau got a B on an anatomy test.

OK, fine, you know it was me. As I hang my head in shame, I confess that I got an 88 (a flippin' B) on my Joints & Muscles test last week. Can you believe it? Me neither & I'm still a little miffed.

It all started with a simple email distributed to all students enrolled for the summer at the local community college. The message simply stated that the visitor parking garage would be closed for the day. I made a mental note to be on the look-out for an alternative parking solution, perhaps I could locate metered parking somewhere. It's not like I have a decal like a real student - I'm only there to have adult supervision while I take on-line tests, least I cheat and actually manange to pull off an A.

After spending a leisurely morning & part of the afternoon at the pool with the kids, cramming for the test, I decided to just bite the bullet and head on over to the college. It was just an exam during the summer, so I didn't spend too much time in front of the mirror before leaving the Haus. Tank top from the pool, hair in a clippie, capris, lip gloss & flip flops on the way out the door. Oh, and my pop-of-color magenta handbag that I bought from the thrift store for $6.99.

As I arrived at the campus armed with extreme knowledge of ligaments, synovial fluid & microscopic muscle structure, I noticed that indeed the parking garage was closed as promised. Blocked off with yellow crime-scene-ish type of tape. As a matter of fact, several large parking lots & walking areas were blocked off with the yellow tape. And, both an ambulance & firetruck were positioned for a quick response. To whatever.

I think to myself, "Oh, this must be an emergency preparedness type of exercise. You know, community college as the local shelter in the event of . . . well, you name it, this is DC, after all."

After driving around for a bit, it became apparent that the only place I could park was in "Decal Only" parking, violators will be fined. Heavily. So, I parked with the intention of approaching the first official looking person - perhaps that campus security officer standing over by the firetruck - and inquire about my legal parking options.

As I sashayed across the parking lot - totally looking like a HausFrau in Flip Flops with a thrift store purse off to take a test for a class she shouldn't have to be taking in the first place - I noticed that I am beginning to feel way under dressed. Way.

Hmmmm.

Pantyhose & suits?

Neckties?

Hello? This is summer school at the community college. I might never not always fit in. For example, I am older than everyone else, I've got that suburban HausFrau look going on that not everyone can pull off, I don't wear a head scarf & English is my native language. And, I don't need a math placement test thankyouverymuch.

As I meander, I again think to myself, "Oh, I guess that dude in the black suit with the black-out shades standing by the big black SUV with black-out tint doesn't look like campus security now that I am closer."

I must admit, I was beginning to think the Secret Service had that place locked down. Tight.

Deciding to risk a parking fine in the name of higher education, I chose not to bother the man in black - or his amigo, the other man in black standing by the firetruck - & I attempted to work my way through the maze of yellow tape, heading for the testing center in Building CG. Guess what. The oodles & oodles of yellow tape were way more clever than this HausFrau & I could not figure out how to get from point A to point B. Since all the official people looked scary & unfriendly in a military police sort of way, I found a friendly looking real college student to help me.

She was young, definitely not a HausFrau in Flip Flops, & she used her English as a Second Language to explain that . . .

Obama was in the Haus. Building CG to be specific & there was no way the Secret Service was letting any uninvited HausFrauen past the yellow tape.

Not even to take a stupid Anatomy & Fizz test.

Seriously friends, I was thisclose to marching up to the Secret Service to ask about parking options at the community college.

In flip flops.

And, I was thisclose to snapping a picture of the POTUS, or at least putting a full-on effort into doing so. Except for my camera was sans memory stick. By the time I ran back home to fetch it & returned, all the hoopla at the campus had cleared away. Sigh.

Eventually & without further obstructions, I flip-flopped over to Building CG & incorrectly answered one too many questions for an A. Sadly for me, not quite an A means a big, fat B.

While I take responsibility for my part of this dismal grade - like maybe the few incorrect answers that landed me with a possible 90 - which is an A, I would like to personally thank the following people for distracting me & consequently causing me to miss that one extra question & make this B a reality:

First, the person responsible for sending the email that the parking garage would be closed. While it was nice to have that information ahead of time, you could have mentioned the reason for the closure and suggest alternative test dates/times.

Then, the Democrats for the Stimulus Package which I am sure is one of the reasons that necessitated a POTUS trip to the local community college.

Next, all the "visitors" in pantyhose & neckties who made me feel under dressed & inadequate. Even though my handbag was way more rockin' than any of those standard-issue-business-office-black ones.

And, finally the head honcho Secret Service guy for staring at me from behind his black-out shades. I know he was looking. He was also probably requesting back-up from other agents pre-positioned on the roof of the parking garage. Hey, Herb, heads up. Coming up on your nine-o'clock. HausFrau in Flip Flops. Earl, got a visual? JoeBob, can you run the plates on that illegally parked SUV. Blue Pilot, Virginia tags. JoeBob! JoeBob! She is carrying! I repeat, she's carrying! Earl, got a visual? Roger that. Phew! It's just a red purse. Herb, keep an eye on her. She looks a little shifty & out of place around here. OK, fine, Earl, it's magenta, not red, what are you? The fashion police? Just keep an eye on her, OK? Over & out.